


Codename: Night Heron

by MathClassWarfare



Series: This Ain’t No Party [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alcohol, Canon Related, Depression, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Mutual Pining, POV Noctis Lucis Caelum, Parent-Child Relationship, Pre-Slash, Recreational Drug Use, Secret Crush, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 17:09:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17308526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MathClassWarfare/pseuds/MathClassWarfare
Summary: It’s not easy being the prince of Lucis. It’s even worse when your best friend isn’t around.—A companion fic toThe Lucians, from Noctis’s point of view.





	Codename: Night Heron

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [How to Make iOS Text Messages on AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6434845) by [CodenameCarrot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CodenameCarrot/pseuds/CodenameCarrot), [La_Temperanza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/La_Temperanza/pseuds/La_Temperanza). 
  * Inspired by [All the Emoji](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6580324) by [CodenameCarrot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CodenameCarrot/pseuds/CodenameCarrot). 



Sunlight has invaded the prince’s bedroom through the altissian blinds. It must have finally stopped raining, then. 

Noctis tries to squeeze his eyelids closed against the light, but it’s no use. He rolls over and picks up his phone, which informs him that it’s 12:56 p.m. on Monday. He dismisses a calendar reminder about an economics paper that’s due in two days, and opens the video app. 

He’s been especially unmotivated lately. Maybe it’s the rain. Maybe it’s because he noticed that his dad is moving slower, and sits down on benches in hallways whenever he stops to talk to somebody. Maybe it’s because he picked the wrong major.

PoliSci was the obvious choice, since he’s going to have to run the country one day. But now he feels like his classes are giving him a preview of just how incompetent he’s going to be at the job. 

Usually, Prompto’s around to help him out with some of it, but he hasn’t been lately. Noctis really misses his best friend.

Last Wednesday, he said he was coming over but then immediately cancelled. The rest of the week, Noctis was pretty busy and only saw him for a few minutes on campus. Noctis invited him over Saturday night to watch dumb horror movies from before they were born, but Prompto wasn’t feeling well, so that didn’t happen. Which sucked. Prompto loves those kinds of movies, and it’s never as much fun to watch without him. Yesterday, Noctis had to go by the campus bookstore to pick up some readings for a class, and he was hoping to run into Prompto working. He wasn’t there, though. Still sick. 

Noctis keeps offering to come by and bring him stuff, but Prompto just declines. 

A text from Gladio interrupts the cat video Noctis is watching.

  
**Gladio:** Where are you?  
  


Shit. He totally forgot he had weapons training. 5 minutes ago.

  
**Noctis:** Can’t make it today  
  
**Noctis:** Sorry  
  


Noctis holds his breath and waits, but there’s no response. Gladio must be _pissed_.

He rifles around under his bed looking for pot, but can’t find any. He must have already finished that last bag. He sinks back into his pillows and re-starts the video. The huge fluffy cat is trying to jump into a too-small cereal box. 

After awhile, there’s a familiar knock at the front door. 

“Come in!” Noctis shouts, not getting up.

Ignis appears in the bedroom doorway. His brows are scrunched up—Noctis thinks he looks more concerned than mad. That’s a relief.

“Have you eaten?”

Noctis shakes his head.

Ignis steps away and returns with a glass of water. He sets it down without a word, then leaves the room again.

Noctis can hear noise from the kitchen. He drops his phone and presses his hands against his eyes, until he sees bright spots. Gratitude wrestles with guilt and annoyance for dominance. He didn’t ask Ignis to come over here and cook for him, but it’s not like he can feed himself. He couldn’t even manage to get out of bed on his own, today. But now he will.

As long as Noctis can remember, Ignis has been around. They grew up together. They may as well be brothers. He often wishes they were actual brothers. That way, Ignis could be king, instead of him. Rules of succession are bullshit, and don’t even get him started on the crystal.

Ignis would be really good at king-ing. He keeps up with the news. He always reads reports and agenda packets. He shows up on time and pays attention in Council meetings. He’s really smart, and has good ideas. Ignis also majored in political science. He got top honors and snagged a spot in a prestigious grad program.

Now, this brilliant expert on diplomacy is in Noctis’s kitchen, frying something. Noctis feels like such a piece of shit. But it smells really, _really_ good. He sits up and drinks some water. Then he gets out of bed.

When he shuffles out of his room, Ignis turns and gives him a gentle smile. “Just in time.”

Ignis dishes stir-fried beef and rice onto two plates and hands one to Noctis. 

“Thank you,” Noctis says quietly, taking his seat at the dining table. 

They eat for several minutes before Noctis breaks the silence. “Gladio’s probably gonna kill me.”

“That would certainly be an abrogation of his duties as your Shield.” A smile flickers at one corner of Ignis’s mouth.

“Well,” Noctis mutters after he finishes chewing, “I’m not really worth shielding, am I?”

Ignis puts down his chopsticks. “I disagree.”

Noctis looks up from his plate to see that his friend is frowning.

“You are sensitive, thoughtful and intelligent.” Ignis reaches across the table and places a hand on his arm. “You have survived considerable hardships and persevered. I admire that.” 

Noctis responds with a dismissive snort, but Ignis continues, undeterred.

“We all have bad days sometimes. There’s nothing wrong with needing help.” He gives Noctis’s arm a squeeze before returning to his meal.

Noctis looks back down at his plate. He thinks it’s easy for Ignis to say this when he’s so damn good at everything. Yes, logically, Ignis is probably right, but Noctis seems to have more bad days than anyone else he knows. 

“But, everything is so hard.” He picks up a single grain of rice and sets it down again. “I can hardly manage to finish college. How am I . . .” He doesn’t finish the thought. They’ve had this conversation so many times, and Ignis must be bored to death with it. 

“You won’t have to do it alone, Noct. I know you will be a fine king, when you’re ready. And I’ll be there to support you along the way, as will many others.” 

Noctis doesn’t know about all that, but he’s grateful for all the people in his life who love and support him. He wishes it were easier to tell them how he feels. He wishes that he didn’t always let them down. 

Noctis takes a deep breath to keep himself from crying. 

“What would I do without you Ignis?”

“If I have my way, you’ll never have to find out.” 

 

— 

By Saturday, Noctis is getting concerned. Prompto hasn’t been on campus and he isn’t texting as much as usual. He says he’s busy working on extra credit for all the classes he’s missed, and Noctis figures that he must be sleeping a lot. Or at least he hopes so. Prompto never gets enough sleep.

Noctis keeps offering to bring him stuff. He hates to think about Prompto all alone in that house with nobody to take care of him when he’s sick. He’s going to run out of food, eventually. Or cold medicine. Or tissues. Is he going to drag himself to the store when Noctis could so easily bring whatever he needs?

Prompto has always been awkward about accepting gifts or favors—or really anything—from him. Some jerks in high school used to say that Prompto only wanted to be friends with Noctis because he’s the prince, but Noctis knows that’s complete bullshit. Still, it made Prompto kind of insecure. Now he can hardly buy the kid an ice cream without it turning into a whole thing.

Noctis looks out the window at the sunny, gorgeous day. Maybe he can convince Prompto to spend the afternoon outside.

  
**Noctis:** Feeling better? Want to go to the park?  
  
**Prompto:** Awww man I wish  
  
**Prompto:** Still feel shitty  
  
**Noctis:** What you want for lunch?  
  
**Prompto:** Lol  
  
**Prompto:** Thanks dude! But no I’m fine   
  
**Noctis:** Seriously!   
  
**Noctis:** I can bring you something   
  
**Noctis:** We can study   
  
**Prompto:** (Face With Tears Of Joy )   
  
**Prompto:** Nah, you don’t want to come here   
  
**Prompto:** I’m not much fun right now   
  
**Noctis:** Well   
  
**Noctis:** Lmk you need anything   
  
**Prompto:** Ok   
  


What Noctis doesn’t say, is that _he_ really needs Prompto right now.

He throws his phone to the other side of the couch. Anything would be more fun than this. He doesn’t care if Prompto is sleeping or doing homework, or sorting through photos. He doesn’t care about germs. He just needs to get out of this apartment and out of his own head. 

Noctis is also worried about his best friend.

He’s going to Prompto’s and he’s going to bring soup. 

— 

Noctis is asking himself if this was actually a terrible idea when the door opens. 

He can’t really read the look Prompto is giving him. Is he happy to see Noctis standing on his doorstep with a plastic container of phở, or is he stressed out? Maybe both?

“Uhh . . . hey buddy. I didn’t know you were coming.” Prompto scratches at the nape of his neck, and steps outside, letting the door close behind him.

He’s disappointed that Prompto isn’t inviting him inside, but at least Noctis can leave knowing that he’s got something to eat. He pushes the take-out container into his best friend’s hands.

“I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d just blow me off again.”

Prompto shrinks back a little, and looks down at the food. “Thanks dude, this looks delicious.”

A wave of fondness melts away Noctis’s annoyance, and he leans towards Prompto. “You’ve been sick for a week. I figured you could use it.” 

Wide blue eyes look back at him, blinking once. “I’m not—”

Prompto’s words are cut off by the door opening behind him. A man steps out, wearing a grin.

“Hello there! I don’t think we’ve been introduced yet.”

Prompto inhales sharply and glances over his shoulder, then back to the container in his hands.

“Dad, this is Noct.” 

He starts fidgeting with the rubber band that secures the baggie of toppings. 

Noctis raises his eyebrows. In all the years they’ve been friends, he hadn’t met either of Prompto’s parents before. They were never home. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Noctis . . . er . . . your Royal Highness Prince Noctis. Please come in!”

Prompto’s father extends his hand, and Noctis shakes it. He seems like a friendly enough guy. 

“It’s nice to meet you too, Mr. Argentum. It’s ok, you can call me Noctis.”

He shoots Prompto a crooked smile as he slips past him into the house. This day is finally getting interesting. 

— 

A black car idles half a block down the street from the Argentums’ house, and Noctis hardly spares it a glance before turning and walking in the opposite direction. He resents his security detail and doesn’t plan to make it any easier by catching a ride with them.

It’s a nice day, after all. And he needs to think.

Prompto seemed really _off._ He said he wasn’t sick, but he looked absolutely miserable. It was weird. Noctis would’ve thought he’d be happy since his parents were home. Both of them. 

Noctis finally got to meet them after all these years. Prompto’s mom is pretty. His dad is funny. They gave him a treasure trove of embarrassing stories about his best friend. They were really nice. He likes them. 

Still, something was up with Prompto, and it doesn’t sit right with Noctis. He would have liked to stay longer, but he can’t miss dinner with his dad. 

On his way back to the station, he cuts through a park. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices one of the Crownsguard officers hop out of the car and follow him on foot. Not subtle at all. 

On the train, the officer sits a few rows behind him, reading a newspaper.

Noctis texts with Prompto, and lets him know that he’s there if Prompto needs him. Then he logs into Kings Knight to harvest his zell tree. 

He misses his stop, knowing that the Crownsguard car is probably waiting at the usual station. Looking back, he sees the officer talking into his earpiece. He imagines the other officer scrambling to make it to the next stop in rush hour traffic, and smiles to himself. 

Noctis isn’t the biggest fan of walking, but it’s totally worth it.

— 

The dining room is really too big for just Regis and Noctis. At least they’re sitting on the same side of the table this evening. Noctis wishes that Ignis could join them for these family dinners at the palace. But there’s some bullshit reason why he can’t. 

Noctis notices how slowly his father lowers himself into his seat, before resting his cane against the edge of the table. He doesn’t mention it though. Everybody knows that the wall protecting Insomnia puts an enormous strain on the king. Noctis sees no point in talking about it. 

A member of staff—Petrus—brings a covered tray to the table. He lifts the lid to reveal a beautiful fish.

“It’s funny,” Noctis says after Petrus serves them and leaves the room, “I was just at Prompto’s place and they’re having fish too.” 

Regis gives him a weak smile, and nods. He looks distracted. 

“I met his parents.”

“That’s nice.”

“Yeah.” 

Noctis can tell his dad is not interested in this conversation. He scrambles for another topic, but Regis beats him to it. 

“Noctis, are you aware of our efforts to bring an end to the war? Our negotiations with Niflheim?”

Noctis nods, chewing. He at least tries to skim the reports Ignis brings him to read, and he knows that the diplomats think peace is possible. 

Regis takes a sip of wine and clears his throat. “We have reached a tentative agreement on the terms, but I need to make sure that _you_ agree before we can finalize the treaty.”

Noctis puts down his fork and squints at his father, confused. “What does it matter if I agree?”

The king folds his hands and places them on the table. 

“It matters because the treaty involves you, and Lunafreya.” He leans forward, and continues. “You are to marry, to forge an alliance and to be a symbol of the peace.” 

“What?” Noctis flares his nostrils. “This is my life! And Luna’s. We’re not things you can just trade off.” 

Regis exhales slowly. “Son, I am truly sorry but this is the nature of these matters.” Before taking another bite, he adds, “You should remember that we have discussed this possibility before.”

Noctis has lost his appetite. His heart is pounding and his voice is low as he asks, “And what if I say no?”

Regis fixes him with a gravely serious look. “Would you risk losing our only opportunity for a peaceful end to this war that has already taken so many lives?”

Noctis drops his gaze, as his father continues.

“Wouldn’t you rather Luna live here in Insomnia with us, rather than in Tenebrae? Here, you can spend time together, and work hand-in-hand for the common good.”

It’s a fair point. Noctis loves Luna. She’s one of his closest friends. And he would feel better if she was safe in Insomnia, rather than in the Empire’s backyard and under their official control. He often wishes she had come home with them all those years ago, but he understands why she didn’t.

Noctis responds with hardly more than a whisper. “I guess I don’t really have a choice.”

Regis frowns, and his expression softens. “Every marriage is different, Noctis. You and Luna already share a friendship, a benefit that not all arranged marriages have. In time, you will see that this is a good thing.” 

He gently places his open palm over Noctis’s fist. “Do I have your cooperation in this?” 

Noctis nods. 

His stomach is churning.

“May I be excused?” 

“Of course.”

Noctis pushes away from the table, leaving most of his dinner uneaten. 

He goes to his childhood bedroom and flops onto the bed, throwing an arm over his eyes. 

He feels trapped. Or tricked. He’s angry, but he knows his dad is probably right.

When they were kids and didn’t know any better, he and Luna used to talk about getting married one day. Even now, he doesn’t mind the idea of sharing a life with her. He just doesn’t want to share a bed. He supposes everyone will expect them to have children, but there’s always science.

It hurts to give up the illusion that his life is his own. That he could fall in love and move in with his person and maybe get married, maybe not. Just like anybody else. But he’s the crown prince, so that was always just a stupid fantasy. About as realistic as the hopeless crush he’s got on his best friend.

Noctis wonders how the hell he’s going to tell Prompto about all this. 

He rolls over, presses his face into a pillow, and screams. 

— 

The student union is crowded. A long line winds out of the cafe, around brightly-colored pleather couches and chairs, filled with people who are chatting or trying to study. 

Some classmates greet Noctis as they walk past him into the bookstore he just left. He gives a shy wave in return. 

He heads upstairs to the chapel. Sometimes he goes there to nap, and thinks he might be the only person on campus who uses it. It’s empty, just as he’d hoped.

He slumps down in a chair and closes his eyes, playing back the conversation he just had. 

Prompto seemed surprised, but happy to hear about the engagement. And why wouldn’t he be? They’re best friends. When your best friend gives you this kind of news, you’re happy for them. Unless—like Noctis—you have an enormous crush. 

The only relationship news he’s happy to hear from Prompto is news about his breakups. Noctis is good at keeping the internal cheering to himself though, and tries his best to be supportive. Prompto has cried on his shoulder many times.

He desperately wishes that the marriage won’t change anything between them, but that seems impossible. 

At least Prompto will be with him at the wedding. He’s going to join the Crownsguard, and they can still hang out after they get back. He knows that Prompto and Luna will get along great. Maybe it won’t be so bad. 

With the peace treaty, and the war ending, maybe his dad can relax a little. Maybe Luna can do something to help bring back some of his strength. He hopes so. That would really make all of this worth it. 

Noctis feels a wet nose nuzzle his hand, and opens his eyes.

“Umbra!” He scratches the dog behind his ears, and pulls a small notebook out of his satchel to read the latest message from Luna.

>   
>  _Dearest Noctis:_
> 
> _You have no doubt heard word of the treaty._
> 
> _Achieving peace is my priority and motivation, but I cannot deny that the prospect of joining you all in Insomnia fills my heart with joy. I am counting the days until we can spend time together again and laugh as we did when we were children._
> 
> _I trust that you will speak with Prompto, and explain the nature of our relationship and the importance of the treaty. I would hate for there to be any misunderstanding, especially given your feelings._
> 
> _Please tell him that I look forward to finally meeting him face to face, and tell your father and Ignis that I am ever so happy that I will see them again soon._
> 
> _Please send my warmest regards to all of them, and take care on your journey._
> 
> _Until we meet again,_
> 
> _All my love,_
> 
> _Luna_

Noctis is touched, and grateful to his thoughtful friend. Luna has always been very wise. He feels a twinge of guilt that he didn’t really explain much to Prompto. 

He finds his favorite pen, turns the notebook to a new page, and tries to put his feelings into words.

— 

They’re in their usual booth at the diner near the Citadel, eating a ridiculous pile of french fries. Five different containers of condiments are scattered across the table—various flavors of mayonnaise and ketchup. It’s kind of a bougie diner. 

Prompto gets up and walks over to the jukebox, and Noctis hears him laugh before he makes his selection. He takes his seat with a conspiratorial smile, and Noctis doesn’t bother asking.

He knows soon enough, when he hears the first few notes of the song. He groans in mock annoyance, and covers his grin with his hands. This was Noctis’s favorite song, like five years ago. Why did he have such bad taste back then? Why does he still love it so much now?

He’s both embarrassed and delighted when Prompto makes a ketchup bottle his microphone and sings along. A group of girls at the next table are laughing, and one of them starts filming with her phone. Prompto winks at her, and it’s hard not to feel jealous. 

He must be fucking loving this.

Prompto ends his performance with a bow and returns to the task at hand, popping three crispy fries into his mouth. 

As his laughter trails off, Noctis shakes his head and wipes tears out of his eyes. “You’re amazing.” 

Prompto shrugs. “I know.”

He really is, though. Noctis is still marveling at just how good he was at the shooting range. On their way here from the Citadel, he’d promised not to pry into exactly _how_ Prompto learned to do that, or what it has to do with his family. So he won’t. But, _holy shit_ , he’s good. 

A server comes by and they help her pile up the condiment dishes on their empty plate. She leaves a bill on the table but neither of them are in a hurry to deal with it.

Noctis kicks Prompto’s foot under the table. “I guess I’ve got plenty of car karaoke to look forward to.”

“You know it, buddy!” Prompto leans back, linked hands behind his head, and stretches his shoulders.

Noctis downs the last of his water. “We’ll have lots of time to kill. It’s a long way.”

“I’m finally gonna see Galdin Quay. And ride on a boat.” Prompto’s eyebrows jump up. “Oh! Hey! Think they’ll have karaoke on the boat?!” 

Noctis laughs. “I don’t know, maybe?” 

He kind of hopes so, seeing how excited Prompto is. Noctis, on the other hand, wouldn’t be caught dead singing in public. 

There’s a line forming near the door, and more than one person is giving them the stink-eye. Prompto must have suddenly noticed this because he jumps to his feet. 

“We should clear out.” 

“Yeah.” Noctis reaches for the bill but Prompto grabs it first.

“Too slow!” He hops over to the register to pay. 

Noctis knows that there’s no use arguing. He just files it away to bring up the next time he wants to do something nice for his best friend.

“Come over?” Noctis pulls on his jacket as they make their way to the door. “I should have the new Assassin’s Creed waiting for me at home. Pre-ordered.”

“Hell yeah!” 

— 

It’s late, and Noctis wants to go to bed, but he doesn’t want Prompto to leave.

“You staying over?” He asks, casually. 

Prompto responds with a grin. “Sure. I’m stealing this pillow.”

With a rush of adrenaline, Noctis considers saying that Prompto could just stay in his room.

“Actually . . .” His hands are clammy. His heart is pounding. He can't look at Prompto.

Then he loses his nerve. 

He picks up another pillow. ". . . you should take two. I have plenty.”

Prompto lets out a breath and smiles. “Thanks buddy!” 

Noctis hands him the pillow on his way to the living room.

Now Noctis can’t sleep. He stares at the ceiling, replaying the exchange again and again. What if Prompto feels the same way? How many more times are they going to be alone together before the trip? Did he just blow his best and only shot?

No, he thinks. He just avoided disaster. There’s no way Prompto likes him back. How awkward would it have been if he suggested that they share the bed?

And yet, he can’t stop himself from wondering what would happen if he walked out there right now. If Prompto freaks out, he could pretend he’s sleepwalking. No. That’s dumb. 

He could bring out a third pillow. There really are a lot of pillows on the bed. But no, there isn’t room for so many on the couch. It wouldn’t make any sense.

He could ask if Prompto wants to use his charger. His phone is fully charged now. That’s too obvious, though. If Prompto needed to use the charger he would have asked earlier. 

Prompto will see through any excuse and think he’s being weird. He’s not going to risk messing up their friendship like that.

Eventually, Noctis manages to fall asleep. At least he can dream about what he’s too scared to do in real life.

— 

All the people in the training hall have a front row seat to watch the crown prince lose his lunch in the trash bin. Warping always makes him nauseous. He knew he should’ve waited until after this training session to eat, but he was really hungry. 

Prompto put his camera down as soon as it started—to Noctis’s immense relief—and now he’s holding Noctis’s hair out of his face while he pukes. 

When it’s over, Noctis takes his offered handkerchief to wipe his mouth.

“Thanks, dude. I guess you don’t want this back.”

“No problem. Keep it. Feel better?”

Noctis nods, and Prompto pats him on the back. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t be so jealous. Warping isn’t that great after all.” 

Gladio shouts at them from across the room. “Hey blondie, you should’ve taken a photo to sell to the tabloids!”

Prompto laughs, and Noctis raises his arm in the air to give Gladio the finger.

This just makes Gladio cackle even louder. Recovering, he asks, “Ready to go again, Noct?”

Noctis takes a swig from his water bottle and walks back to the center of the hall.

“Yeah.”

— 

After the training session is over and Prompto heads home, Noctis and Gladio go to the Citadel cafeteria for smoothies. Gladio said it would be gentle on his stomach. 

They’re looking for somewhere to sit when a group of glaives clustered around one of the tables suddenly stop talking as they approach. Noctis feels self-conscious, and also doesn’t want people to be uncomfortable because of him. He suggests that they take their drinks outside.

Noctis knows people aren’t happy about the decision to turn over so much territory to Niflheim. It’s frustrating though, because they don’t really understand the situation. Lucis is losing this war, and people are going to keep dying. Peace under Niflheim rule has got to be better than the alternative. Though—as Prompto always reminds him—it’s easy to say that from where they’re sitting, _inside_ the wall.

They lounge on the grand steps at the entrance to the Citadel, and watch the late afternoon foot traffic of glaives and Crownsguard officers, clerks and tour groups. 

Gladio tips his chin back and looks down at Noctis. “You did good today.”

Noctis rolls his eyes. “Aside from the vomiting, you mean?” 

“Including that. You took it like a man, and kept going.” 

“That’s me. The prince of puke.” 

Gladio guffaws, and slaps him on the back. “It’s not going to be easy, you know. Out there.”

“I know.”

“We’re going to have to face wild animals, daemons, and maybe even other people. We’ve all got to be prepared for whatever comes.”

Noctis shudders, remembering the daemon encounter that left him broken and terrified, in a pool of his nanny’s blood. He tries to push the image out of his mind.

He asks, “Do you think we’re ready?”

Gladio hums thoughtfully. “I think we will be. You’ve been real dedicated lately. You’re here even when you don’t have training scheduled.”

Noctis smiles. “Just ‘cause I want to watch Prompto try to swing a greatsword. It’s funny.” 

“Speaking of, where’d he run off to? I thought you guys were joined at the hip.”

“Home, I guess? He was gonna have dinner with his folks.” Noctis slurps noisily at the dregs of his smoothie.

Gladio huffs. “A special occasion then.” 

“I know, right?” Noctis sets down his empty cup. “But I guess they’ve been home a lot lately.”

“I wonder why that is,”

Noctis shrugs.

“Don’t they have to go out of town all the time for work or something?” Gladio furrows his brow.

“Yeah. All over the place.” Noctis raises his eyebrows. “Oh! They told me that the Crow’s Nest is their client. Remember that food poisoning thing a couple years ago?”

“I do.”

“They did PR for that.”

“Huh.”

“Anyway, maybe business is slow these days.” Noctis kicks a pebble and watches it bounce down the steps. “You wouldn’t think so though, from all the gourmet cooking Prompto’s dad’s been doing.” 

Gladio looks off into the distance with a slight frown. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, Prompto’s been eating well.” Noctis stands up and stretches his arms high above his head. “Hey, what are you doing right now?”

“Well. I’ve got a date,” he brags. “Iris is probably around though, if you want to hang out at our place.”

“Yeah, okay.” 

As they make their way out of the Citadel, Noctis smacks Gladio’s arm. “Anybody I know?”

“Like I’d tell you if it was.”

“C’mon.”

“No.”

“ _C’monnn_ ” Noctis tugs at his sleeve.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re very annoying?” Gladio shakes his head.

“Never.” 

— 

The night air is refreshing against his face as Noctis flies through the wide open late-night streets, racing Prompto to the iron gate at the entrance of the park. Prompto gets there first and flings his bike against the fence. He’s still hopping on one foot, fist in the air, and catching his breath when Noctis joins him.

They lock up their bikes, and he gives Prompto a boost so he can climb over. Then Noctis throws Prompto his backpack, and uses a multi-tool to warp to the other side.

They sit at the edge of a pond, enjoying a moment of quiet stillness before Noctis summons his fishing rod. 

“Isn’t your magical arsenal supposed to be for weapons?”

Noctis maintains a neutral expression. “It’s called the Armiger. And this is a weapon. Against fish.”

Despite his efforts, Noctis’s mouth twitches a little when Prompto cracks up. 

He digs in his jacket pocket to pull out a lure, and finds that he’s hooked himself a roach. He must have shoved it in there the other day and forgotten about it.

“Would ya look at that.” 

He finds a lighter in the other pocket and offers both to Prompto, who shakes his head emphatically.

“Nah, man. I need my lungs.”

Noctis shrugs and lights up, careful not to burn his fingers

“It helps with the nausea,” he croaks through a slow exhale, squinting as smoke gets in his eyes.

“ _Suuure_ it does.”

Prompto pulls two cans of beer out of his backpack. “Want one?”

They’re some kind of flavorless Lucian beer, made out of rice, or some shit. Noctis wrinkles his nose. 

“Where’d _that_ come from?”

“What?!” Prompto grins. “It was in the fridge. I think my dad bought it.”

“I’ll pass, thanks.”

Prompto cracks open a can. “You’re such a snob, Noct. Enjoy your artisanal pot.”

“Oh. I am.” He takes another puff, and Prompto’s laughter makes him cough. 

They sit in comfortable silence. Noctis watches the gentle bob of his lure. The city lights twinkle above the tree-line at the edge of the park. 

He breathes, “I bet we’ll be able to see the stars, out there.” 

Prompto lays back on the grass. “I would really like that.”

Noctis looks down at his beautiful best friend, his shining eyes and serene smile. He feels warm, despite the cool night, and a little fuzzy from the pot. He wonders what would happen if he just leaned down and kissed Prompto right now. 

He doesn’t do that though.

Instead, he asks, “Remember any constellations?”

Prompto snorts, “Not really!”

“Yeah, me neither.”

This is the last time they’re going to do this, before they leave the city. Noctis wonders if they’ll still break into the park to fish after they get back, or if everyone is going to expect him to grow up once he and Luna are married. 

There’s a tug at his line. Noctis stands up and starts reeling.

Prompto jumps up too. “Get ‘em Noct!”

— 

He can’t find the right words, as they stand at the top of the Citadel steps. This has always been hard. With _him_ more than with anyone else. Noctis loves his dad, but he’s still carrying around a lot of hurt that sometimes gets in the way. 

When he was a kid, Noctis got it in his head that he had something to do with his mom’s death. Maybe it was gossip among the staff, or just other kids being mean. He can’t remember anymore. While he was growing up, his dad was hardly ever around, so he figured Regis didn’t want to see him. He thought it must upset him that Noctis was alive when Auela wasn’t. 

Noctis still feels guilty for all the ways he took out his frustration on his nannies, his teachers, the other staff, and on Ignis—who was not much older than him—when he was really upset at his absent father.

Now that he’s an adult, Noctis knows that his dad doesn’t resent him, and they’ve talked about his mom’s death. Those old feelings are still there, though, just beneath the surface.

Saying goodbye, Noctis tries to keep it light. Regis tells him to behave himself around Luna, and he tells his dad to behave _himself_ around their guests from Niflheim. 

Then it takes a turn for the serious when his dad asks him if he’s ready to leave home behind, which is kind of a weird thing to say when they’re coming right back after the wedding. Regis reminds him that he carries “the line of Lucis” everywhere he goes, and tells him to “walk tall,” something he says sometimes that Noctis knows isn’t just about his posture. 

He leaves feeling a little funny, but there’s nothing else to say. 

Noctis rejoins his misty-eyed friends and they pile into the Regalia. He’s admired the car for as long as he can remember, and now it’s his. A little piece of home that he can take with him. 

He meant it when he said he’s as ready as he’ll ever be to leave home. Not that he could ever be truly ready to do something like that. He’s nervous—none of them really know what’s out there—but he tries not to show it. He’s also excited. 

He’s not nearly as excited as Prompto, though. He’s bouncing around, taking pictures, and talking almost nonstop as they make their way out of the city and into the desert beyond the wall. Noctis really, really hopes Ignis and Gladio don’t throw his best friend out of the car before they get to Galdin Quay. 

He suggests that Prompto take a turn at the wheel, figuring it will give him something to focus on so he can chill.

Later, after the car breaks down, he considers that it might not have been the best idea.

Noctis doesn’t actually know what the problem was. Based on what Cindy told them, he’s sure it wasn’t Prompto’s fault. It sucks because he seems to be taking the blame anyway, and totally stressing out. 

When Cindy finishes doing her magic, everyone agrees that Ignis should drive. 

Noctis pulls rank to take control of the stereo and puts on Prompto’s favorite album. Before too long, he’s singing again. 

After such a rocky start, Noctis really hopes the rest of their trip goes smoothly.

— 

The newspaper headline reads “Insomnia Falls,” but Noctis refuses to believe it until he sees it with his own eyes.

He feels numb, mostly, as Prompto clings to him, and he clings back. His best friend chokes out muffled words into his damp shoulder. “This okay?”

“Prompto,” he breathes. “None of this fucking okay. But, yeah. Don’t let go. Please.” 

They take his father’s car back the way they came. Then he sees it with his own eyes.

Looking over the ridge at their smoldering city, drop ships hovering above the skyline, it’s as clear as day. The wall is gone, Insomnia is unprotected, and the Empire has invaded.

Nobody knows what to say. 

Their home is under siege and they can’t do anything to stop it. If they try, they’ll die. 

A ferocious rage burns inside Noctis, swirled up with grief. It’s hard to look at Gladio. The news says both of their fathers are dead. The news says that Luna is dead. But the Empire makes the news now, and it could all be lies. They’re saying that Noctis is dead too. Yet here he is, thanks to Regis.

How did they fool him like this? Or did they even fool him? Did he know what was going to happen? Did he send Noctis out of the city just to save him? How could he just smile and watch him leave like that? 

Noctis feels so useless. He has to _be_ something, to these friends of his. Even though he doesn’t amount to much.

An icy realization overwhelms him. They could be the only people he has left in the world, and they’re all in danger now. Still, he doesn’t know how, but they have to take it back. There’s no question. Even if it’s the four of them against the Empire. Even if it costs them everything.

His phone rings. It’s the marshal. Someone who might know what to do.

Noctis exhales bittersweet relief. They’re not so alone after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again to the lovely people on the FFXV Subreddit's [discord server ](https://discord.gg/ffxv) for chatting with me about spies and minutiae of the FFXV universe and helping me name this thing. Also thanks to the folks on the FFXV Writers discord server all your good ideas and encouragement.


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